


Biography of a deer

by Whizzlyzip



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Child Abuse, F/M, Gen, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Manipulation, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29245242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whizzlyzip/pseuds/Whizzlyzip
Summary: Alastor, the feared radio demon: An unpredictable monster who finds its only pleasure in the misery and pain of others. The reason why lost souls fear this name is clear, with merciless slaughters and bloody massacres he`s being true to his name.Yet, this man we are talking about was once a small child like we all were, free of harted and full of childlike vivacity and curiousity. So what would have to happen to change a small loving being into this heartless deer demon?
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Mimzy (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Kudos: 15





	Biography of a deer

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, this is my first time uploading here! (and yes im scared)  
> I have thought long about writing this story down, so now im giving it a try! I should probably mention that english is not my mother tounge, so im sorry if you might spot a few mistakes >.<  
> However, I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Note: All characters of the web series Hazbi Hotel belong to its rightful owner, vivziepop.

In the countryside of Louisiana, in late summer of 1910, the 21st of September slowly got to its end. Grasses had been withered by the burning sun, which had left along with the hot day of august, and the golden- ripe crops had been brought from the fields into the barns a while ago. Beaming rays of sunlight mustered their last ounces of strength to break through the few thick clouds which floated in the orange- blue sky, and starlings gathered on the buzzing steel cables of the power poles. They might have just returned from one of the wheat fields, struggling to find some remaining grains. On this Indian- summer evening, the first grade of a descended elementary school served their last class for this Saturday. The weekend was desperately awaited…

Alastors cheeks burned on his face, now that they`ve turned red as if someone bedecked them with pink rouge. He could feel the embarrassment gripping him like a wild monster, and it seemed almost determined to devour him in one piece. The air in the dim room began to thicken, so much, even breathing became a challenge and calming the young boys` racing pulse seemed almost impossible. Soft giggling from further behind told Alastor that he`d done the other children a favor with his exposure, it surely sweetened their far too boring day at elementary school and spoil his own.  
The scenario twined him like an invisible rope, hindering the student to move or defend himself against it. Spinned by those who found their pleasure in the suffering of lesser ones, manifested a spiders web, capturing the victims who had no one who was willing to defend them.  
“Alastor!” the shriek voice of his teacher drowned the other students’ laughter. The mid-aged woman stood in front of the lanky lad, the seams of her camisole stretching visibly, as she swelled her chest with a deep breath. She shot the boy a stern, cold look as she leaned over Alastors desk, frightening the anxious kid even more. Her way too early appearing wrinkles expanded as she twisted the lipstick- covered mouth.  
“How often did we take this trough and still you don’t manage to spell these words correctly! Young man that just simply can`t be it!” Blond, long hair stroke the woman’s shoulders as her right arm reached out for the small, jet –black slate on the desk. Her skinny, pale hand revealed dark blue veins and loose skin, covered in excessive amounts of cream and powder. Clearly an attempted to mask those imperfections.  
“P-H-O-T-O…” The hard material of Al`s slate clicked as the teachers fingers trailed and touched each letter the boy had written down, along to her overly loud voice spitting them out.  
“….P-Y! Where is the H? You can almost HEAR the H in photography Alastor, where in gods` name did you leave your brain today?!”  
She drew herself back, straightening up and examining the boy like a warden, clearly waiting for a surely explanatory, but certainly never sufficient answer. Glassy eyes turned to slits as she scanned the boy from toes up to the head, her arms crossed over the bloated torso.  
„I`m sorry Miss Scott, I-.“ Alastor rested his eyes on the little writing-blackboard on his desk, shame and unease crawling up his spine. Unsure about how to excuse his mistake, he fixed his dark- hazel eyes on anything except the teacher. His usually slightly tanned skin began to turn pale with the incoming nervousness.  
„I hope you will. My abilities to teach will also reach their end at some point! The Lady scanned the bleak, to most part wooden room, noticeably searching for more words complicated enough to humiliate Alastor. “  
…Now what about Consequences, can you spell the word Consequence for us?“ Immediately the classroom went silent, as the others waited almost eagerly for one more chance to amuse themselves out of Als failure.  
“C-O-N-S-E_...” Alastors hands started so sweat as he rubbed them nervously against each other, the teachers´ impatience and the classmates growing thrill caused an uncomfortable tension in the air, almost unbearable. “Q-E-“  
“NO Alastor” He flinched back from way to high-pitched voice of Miss Scott. His pencils jiggled as her fist smashed hard against the wooden desk, adding even more power to her outburst. Would one be able to hear the excessively loud screaming, instead of just reading the words describing it, they’d probably picture a fiercely screaming, ugly cat, with (the absent) hair standing on end, a wild gaze pierced towards its victim. Her words echoed from the walls along to the laughter of his morons of classmates, making it hard for Al to battle against the hot tears which filled his eyes.  
Alastor hated classes. He hated his classmates, the teachers, the subjects… He hated when he just couldn’t solve tasks given to him, he hated it when the others enjoyed the flaws of his work, and he hated that no matter what he tried, that no matter how much heart and soul he put into it, it surely wasn’t ever enough. But most of all Alastor hated… that he didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he struggled in classes more than others; he didn’t know why he wasn’t as much interested in mathematics or science, as he was in practical skills. He didn’t understand why talents like his weren’t as appreciated as athletic skills or pretty handwriting. Al had no idea why the other kids treated him different and why they seemed to consider him a weird and worthless child; he didn’t know why Miss Scott as well as the other teachers treated him so poorly, why they pictured him so pathetic and clueless. He just didn’t understand why he was never valued by anyone for who he was. Alastor did not know what made him different, and certanly he did not know how he could ever have changed that. Alastor was used to the others making fun of him or to the way the teachers would handle his lack of learning success. Most of the time, when scenarios like this took place, he could control himself. He tried to care as less as possible about the treatment others gave him, as hard as that was. His mother used to tell him whenever she noticed he was depressed about something, that the way other people treat you says a lot about them, yet absolutely nothing about you. And Alastor tried to believe in that, he tried it so hard yet sometimes he still wondered what made the other kids look at him the way they did…  
Al lowered his head enough so his chestnut brown hair covered the underdogs` eyes; a single tear polluted his round glasses as it escaped. No way… why could he never control himself?! As if the exposure wasn`t already big enough, “crying like a baby” surely put a crown on it.  
“I simply-“ The clink of the bell which signals the end of classes ended Miss Scotts lecture abruptly, but even the jarring, discordant sound of the bell was drowned in the outburst of students who smacked their papers roughly in the leathern schoolbags. Joyful chatter filled the air as they shared their plans for the little remaining afternoon, the subject matter left their heads faster than one would like. Miss Scott left Als workplace quickly, hoping she was able to write the homework down on the blackboard fast enough, so at least some of the children would hand it in coming Monday. Alastor left out a long held breath, thankful for the unexpected circumstance that ended his torture. He stopped shaking as he could finally relax and grabbed his papers and slate, as well as the colorful pencils and stuffed them in his schoolbag. Wood crunched as he slid from his chair, the brassern buckles of the brown backpack clattered as he swung it around his shoulders. Alastor pushed the chair under his desk wildly with his left foot, clearly struggling to hold balance, and then left off with an eagerly sprint. The commands of his teacher announcing the homework faded as he burst through the door, soles clapping against the smooth stone floor and school supplies bang against each on his back. Surely this created an unpleasant mess of spilled ink combined with written notes in the bag, but that would be discovered later on. Alastor polished his horn-glasses in his grayish shirt, the cotton material drying them quickly. With enthusiasm he sprinted towards the exit. From every angle noises echoed from the old, brickern walls, as the children left the building in a mass movement. Alastor escaped the shabby village school with a massive jump, skipping the few steps which would provide a save exit, and dust particles were whirled in the air as he landed save on the ground. Almost automatically they dragged him towards home, leaving the masses of other students behind. Gravel crunched beneath them as Alastor didn’t slow down. He was way too busy to pay attention to the beautiful late summer evening that took place around him. A light breeze tossed the already- turning yellow leaves up in the tree crowns, composing a wonderful melody to suit the special aura of these late Indian summer hours. Grass bowed to the gentle wind as it was stroked by its light touch, and the sunlight adopted the typically fiery red appearance, its warm shades transforming the world in a warm ambient. On the left side of Alastors way home was a tiny forest, in whichs middle a clear brook flowed along. To the right lined a pasture fence, its wooden posts already rotten. The stinging sound of its electrical railing combined to the splashing of the clear water was one of Als most beloved compositions, as it promised him, he would be home soon.  
Only when Als breath had completely forsaken him, he stopped. Palms rested on knees he inhaled heavily, upon his torso the backpack rose and sunk in sync to his deep breaths. The boys lungs burned like fire from the exhausting race and catching enough oxygen seemed rather challenging. As Alastor rested there for a few moments, his mind drifted back to the classroom and what had just happened there. The arising picture of his head- teacher humbling him became clearer, as rage rose up in the boy. The grip of his hands tightened as he thought of the others laughing and he squeezed the leather of the trouser between his sweating fingers. Once more the student inhaled deeply, deciding to just get over the past humiliation. Al sure still was angry as hell about what had happened, but after all there was no use in being irritated about what had happened, for it was in the past. Alastor lifted his head, for once taking note of the charming ambient around him. Slowly catching his breath the boy inspected the location his feet had dragged him to. About a hundred meters further, a shiny white fence told Al that he already had put half of the distance behind him. A few individual thujas were supposed to embellish the private property of Mr. Mackenzy. Now, Mr. Mackenzy was an old, rather grumpy guy who enjoyed most to be left alone from other human beings, as he tried his best to live out his retirement in peace and calm. Unlike his retirement, Mr. Mackenzy was everything but peaceful and calm. Honestly, Alastor wondered how the geezer didn`t bite the dust until now. Not because he was sick or anything, but simply because he used to throw tantrums from time to time, and they seemed to lead dangerously close to a stroke. He especially wasn`t a fan of youngsters like Alastor was one. They meant nothing but trouble to the old man, for god knows why. Instead of risking being yelled at for coming to close to the beloved yard, Al decided to take a little detour through the bushes. He slid under the stinging thicket trying his best to protect his face from the branches. Foliage rustled beneath his feet, the thick branches of the old chestnut trees creaked above the six- year olds head. As the didn´t pave the way easily, Al cursed under his breath. He struggled to keep the twigs away from his face, when he suddenly picked up an annoying laughter from somewhere near the streambed. Alastor tried his best to quiet down his breath, as he could barely hear through his own panting. Paying his whole attention to its source, the boy guessed it belonged to someone around his age, and whatever they did, they enjoyed audibly. His instincts told him that he should leave the noise alone, but he was just too curious to find out what was going on there. The day had already been shitty enough, and everyone knows you should just listen to your inner voice telling you not to go after some things, but as a child, curiosity is one of those characteristics we tend to give in to so easily. Once an adult, we lose it and its thrill, the thrill to find ourselves in situation we might remember for a lifetime, in a good or bad way.  
But Alastor wasn`t an adult, he would soon turn seven and so he digged his way further through the hazels until the thicket released the not so beautiful scenario. Al gasped silent gasp as he realized what he had just encountered. Unease made his body freeze. Beneath the slope, about two feet from the stream four boys lurked. They had their hands rested on their hips and their eyes rested on something dangling above them. A string was tied to an oaktree-branch above, and on it hung the lifeless body of a cat. Its long, white fur was tousled and filthy, stains of mud and blood polluting it. The fear of death was still present in the poor things eyes, its head tilted in an unnatural angle. The corpse swung sadly to the murderers` proud giggles.  
The Persian belonged too old Mr. Mackenzy, probably the only thing left on earth he loved… well until now, and Al had just caught the murderers red- handed. Alastor turned his gaze towards the four silhouettes eyeing their deed. Two of them were rather giant, one long and lean and the last one a bit smaller, belonging to a petite person. Edward was the name of the shorter one. A skinny, pale kid from one year above Als class. A wide grin, revealing one missing tooth in the front, disfigured Edwards freckles covered face. Loose strands of blonde hair hung into the kids face. He wore a widely oversized red blouse, polluted by a few stains of dried mud, and a short, leathern trouser, much like Alastors. The satisfied look on his face made Als stomach turn, the malevolence of it couldn’t be denied. A soft giggle escaped the morons’ mouth once more as he turned towards his supporters, waiting for their approval.  
Alastor could only guess why the boys` left incisor was missing, his primary teeth should have fallen out years ago, but he decided he would keep that useful information for later events.  
Behind the towhead the two larger fellows leaned. Both of them had their arms crossed, and their hair reminded Al more of an abandoned birds nest than actual hair. Alastor believed the slightly taller ones name was Andrew, but he surely wasn`t aware of the other ones name.  
The last boy, a meager and slender fellow, enjoyed chewing on a dried blade of grass, as he overlooked the scenario in front of him. A loose military- style jacked covered his boney shoulders, suiting the same patterned belt, which held up his trousers.  
This wasn’t the first time Al encountered with these jerks, and usually things never ended well for him if he did so. The groups` favorite leisure activity was to make life of struggling kids even harder, so he was the perfect victim for the gang. Usually Alastor didn’t make it out without a few bruises and scratches, if he was lucky. Since school ended not even half an hour ago, Al guessed that they had not even showed up there in the first place, maiming the old mans cat must have been more tempting for them. Alastor was damn sure that the three taller boys were dumb as a dogs´ foot, and he often wondered how they`ve managed to pass classes up to this point, yet the slimmer one always seemed quite sure of what he was doing.  
A chill breeze began to sweep through the trees, roaring thunder from miles away promised an upcoming summer storm. Storms like this could become quite intense, and Al decided it would be the best to leave this assassination, before the thunderstorm would reach him or he was getting involved in the crime which took place in front of him. He took a few careful steps backwards, giving his all to make as little noise as possible. Sadly, this didn’t work out as planned. He slipped on the wet earth beneath his feet, the boys heart skipped a beat as he felt himself losing his footing, and his body tilted forward when he completely lost balance. The glasses flew through the air. The world around him started to rotate and every attempt of Alastor to catch himself was in vain. With a loud crash the student rolled down the slope, clods of soil following. He left out a groan from the pain, as he landed on his knees next to the streambed. The stony ground had given him bloody abrasions, filled with the dark mud. While trying to process what had just happened, Al felt them starting to burn wildly. Hot tears of pain arose reflexively.  
The four offenders turned around confused, starring at the muddy and disheveled kid on surprise. Al lifted his head slowly, and his pulse accelerated as he realized he was trapped in the dangerous situation. As if the day couldn’t get any worse.  
“Hey jerk, have you been watching us?” Edward shouted as the surprise had left his mind. He turned towards the kneeling Al. Gripped by fear Al started to palpate the ground for his glasses. He hoped his rough downfall had not caused them scratches. The wounds on his palms ached as he scanned the gravelly soil. Ease filled him when his fingers finally touched its smooth material. Al could hear one of the boys approaching slowly, as rocks crunched under their feet on their way towards their uninvited guest. He put on the glasses as quickly as possible, rather unhappy of what his just regained eyesight revealed. Ed shot him a superior gaze, his face so close, his and Als noses almost touched. The outnumbered kid got up quickly and jerked a few steps back, his backpack rattled loudly with every move. He could feel his heard beating on the inside of his chest, as the child patterned him patronizing.  
“To meddle in the matters of others is considered quite rude you know?” Edward swiped a few clumps of mud out of his face, using his cotton blouse. Once more he casually put his hands on the hips, visibly relaxing. He had nothing to fear as they were in the majority. The other thee jerks eyed the situation up empty-headed from behind. All of their attention rested on Alastor, who had clearly stolen the lifeless cat-corpses show. Not sure of how to get out of this unfortunate situation he could only think of one way to get out of it, and he had to gather all of his courage for it. It was sure risky to threaten the four brutes, but it was all he could do.  
“I consider it as rude massacring someone else’s cat to death, but I guess we just don’t share the same humor when it comes to what is entertaining and what isn’t.” Als haughty answer caught the gang by surprise. They annoying laughter faded immediately. Ed shot the other three a evil gaze that was quickly returned to the now slightly trembling Al.  
“That sassy attitude doesn’t suite you Alastor, I’d drop it if I was you.” He glanced slowly to the slack body dangling up in the air. “Unless…” His gaze had turned hideous as it returned to face the younger boy. “…you want to end up like that furry mate up there.”  
The two hulks outburst of laughter clang through the air, along to that of the slimmer one. Pleased by the cheers of his company, he swelled his chest proudly. The grin on his face enlarged. This was bad, very bad. Als panic arose as things seemed to get serious. Physical strength wasn’t quite one of Als skills, and even if so, he could have never stood against the four opponents, two of the twice as heavy as him. The situation seemed hopeless and Al prepared for the worst when suddenly one thought crossed his mind.  
“Tell me Ed, when your father hears of this little… incident, will he knock out your other oversized tooth as well? At least when both of them are missing it won’t look that odd. Not that it would save your ugly ass face!” Alastor rubbed his thumb against the other fingers, trying to seem as unbothered as possible, as hard as that was…  
Edward lifted his eyebrows in surprise and the once so confident look left his face in a heartbeat. The other three also seemed as they had expected something else as an answer, as they exchanges clueless glances.  
“…what did you just say?” Ed breathed his voice twice as low as before.  
“Looks like you got that right in the first place.” Al returned his gaze fast as lightning and confidence filled the student when he realized he had guessed right about Edwards’ father. Alastor knew for a while that Benjamin’s father would box, probably rape his son. He had noticed that the boy came to school wearing bandages more and more often, and that the boy seemed quite in unease when his father would pick him up from school from time to time. The usually loud- mouthed boy wouldn`t give a peep from. He turned so quiet, barely noticeable even. Alastor knew from personal experience what those strange behaviors meant, as his own step father used to do the same to him sometimes, when he was drunken enough to be in the mood for it. It seemed that beating the living shit out of their children was an appropriate escape from depressed fathers’ everyday life.  
He might have just found the right words after all.  
Or not. Edward made his way to Al, fists clinched. The pale face had turned red and frown lines showed up on his forehead. The tension in the air seemed to thicken with each big step of the boy. As he launched closer Als heart dropped and the confidence left faster than he wished it had.  
“….who do you think you are? You do know what we will do to you right? The way you`ll whimper once we are done…” Edward whispered. Anger filled his eyes, as his opponent had touched a sore point of him. His shadow loomed over the younger boy who instinctively backed off a little.  
None of them seemed to notice the light rain around them, which announced the upcoming storm.  
“I… wait, I…” Al stuttered, but he had to admit to himself, there was no proper answer that could have saved him.  
“You! You have nothing to-“But Edward couldn’t finish his impulsive speech. Tremendous thunderbolt followed by blending lighting cut him off. The thunderstorm, which had announced itself before had reached the small village on the countryside. Heavy raindrops shook the leafage of the old trees around them, until they landed on the fern overgrown forest floor, or dived into the small stream with loud plops. The loud crash had startled the children and each one of them froze in an instant. As soon as Al had shaken off the unexpected surprise he took his chance, bolting away as long as the others were distracted. The boy dug his hands into the muddy soil of the slope and fought his way up, back to the gravel covered dirt road. He barely took notice of the cursing predators behind him, his only thought was to get out of here as fast as possible. Bushes rustled as he pushed them aside and entered the road that lead home. Dust was thrown in the air as he pushed forward, when he caught a glimpse of the beaming white fence of Mr. Mackenzy. Crossing the grumps land was quite dangerous, but getting beat up by his predators seemed worse to the boy. He took a right turn and jumped from the grass strip next to the road up onto the wooden fence. Behind him he could hear the gang escape the shrubbery. As he scrambled upon the wooden posts he looks back. They followed him closely, from the taller guys hand dangled the dead cat.  
***  
The clock struck five in the afternoon, it gold- plated dials rested over the hand- drawn numbers. With a loud dong the announcement echoed through the old but well preserved house. It passed antique portraits of famous, but long forgotten people, a few perfectly polished Chinese ceramic vases and cherry wooden doorframes, until it reached the ears of its owner. Mr. Mackenzie closed his book quite audible, after he casually left a bookmark on the page he just read through. The man put “faust- by Wolfgang von Goethe” carefully aside on one of the also cherry wooden side table and swung his left foot from his other femur back on the floor. The elderly put both of his hands on the fabric armrests of the chair and got up in a powerful swing. Five o´clock in the afternoon was the perfect time for one last tea of the day he decided, and followed his way to the kitchen. As he walked along the corridor, which walls were covered with the old paintings, he paused next to a big window that revealed the perfectly manicured garden. Heavy rain sprinkled the crimson- red roses and other expensive flowers, the perfectly cut back thujas bent to the wind. Now, if that wasn’t the perfect weather to enjoy a nice cup of tea in the warm establishment of his living room, he thought to himself as he continued his trip to the kitchen. Once he had arrived at the goal, he opened one of the wooden cupboards. Inside of it waited an yet unopened package of orange pekoe, an exotic tea. The sack was put on the marble surface of the kitchen isle, next to a tiny porcelain- cup. Mr. Mackenzie dropped the steaming pot over the flame of the oven, like he had done countless times before. When the water had adapted the perfect temperature for the high- quality tea, he put it away from the heat and poured a small amount of it inside the small cup. The bag he had put in it before, floated on the surface, the brownish color of the content spread slowly across the fluid. Mr. Mackenzie grabbed another cup, filled with sugar- cubes, as well a spoon and placed them both on a tablet. He put the cup, which had been put on a small plate of the same material, next to the other objects and carried them away into the living room. The man strolled back along the dark corridor, when he noticed that the feeding dish of his cat was still full. It seemed completely untouched. That was highly unusual for the rare Persian. Even though the cat spent most of its time outside in the nearby woods, he always filled his belly sometime on the early evening with the food, his owner had prepared for him. Utterly strange, Mr. Mackenzy wondered, but then decided to not to worry about it, as he went along. There, he placed them slowly onto the small table, on which he had put the novel earlier, and let himself fall back into the soft chair. Once more he inspected his perfectly kept yard through the giant windows in his living room. Fine tunes escaped the trumpet of the record player. The combination of countless books, an old fireplace and red silk curtains made up a truly marvelous room.  
Pleased by what the man saw, he reached out for the tea and led it slowly to his mouth, when suddenly something terrible hit his eyes. There, right in front of his eyes, a kid crawled over fence, leaving behind stains of mud. The boy landed rather inelegant on the grass, pieces of it were thrown in the air as the kid darted further into the yard. But what followed, was even more horrifying. On the same spot the kid had trespassed the boundary, four more followed, each one of them dirty and wet from the rain. And in the hand of one of them, the body his beloved cat dangled lifeless.  
Mr. Mackenzie jumped out of his chair, his hand reached for the spot of his chest in which his heart dared to stop beating. He took a deep breath as he raced towards the doorframe of the living room, the heavy steps could be heard in every room. “Those morons!” The elderly screamed as he almost slipped around the corner which leads to the terrace door. He slammed it open wild, hoping he could cut off the predators’ way. The Man bolted over the slippery wood of the terrace and with a massive jump he landed right in front of the intruders. They stared at him in shock, before each one of them left off in a different direction, screaming. Mr. Mackenzy followed the one who held his furry mate in his hands, and he was surprisingly fast considering his age of 79 years.  
The kid dropped the corpse in fear, before he escaped over the garden wall, fast as lightning. Mr. Mackenzy stopped right before the pets’ body, fists clenched in anger. He could hear his own heartbeat ringing in his ears, and his lungs dared to explode from the heavy panting. He eyed over what laid in front of him on the wet grass. With a wild grunt he swirled around, pursuing his intent to give the local officer a call.  
***  
Al pushed himself over the fence and landed on the other side not quite softly. The abrasions on his hands and knees ached as he landed on them, but that wouldn’t make him stop now. Alastor almost slipped on the wet grass as he started to run again. Once he would have crossed the old mans yard, there was only a small forest left which separated the boy from his home. Heavy panting kicked in again, but Al picked up speed as the white fence of the other side came closer. He crossed a small flower- bed in a massive jump and bust closer towards the boundary. Only when a aggressive shouting caught his ears he stood still, a glance over his shoulder told Al that his grumpy neighbor had witnessed the trespassers and cut of his predators way. With both of his hands up in the air the man chased the predators that now became the prey, as they escaped screaming like piglets. Al continued his race towards home, guessing he would be Mr. Mackenzies next target object. With an equal jump as before he clinched onto the fence and threw himself over it, onto the soft forest floor. As much as he wanted to cry out as the wounds of him burned wildly again, he knew better to continue getting home as fast as possible.  
Al made his way through the forest without any further interruptions, the screaming voice of Mr. Mackenzie had faded a while ago. After a while the wet leaves gave way to a small wooden house in the middle of the woods, his home. The reed spindles of its roof peeked through the bushes, and relief filled the exhausted boy, as he had finally reached his destination. . It was a small building made out of bricks and wood in the middle of the thick woods. The old, shingle-coated roof bent a little down in the middle, moss and lichen adorning it in its own, beautiful way. A warm and welcoming light escaped the insides of the small windows, which were noticeably embellished with colorful, thick flowers. A small yard looped around the small housing, filled with good taken care of rose bushes, flowering plants and vegetable patches. Whoever was responsible for did their work with love.  
Alastors gaze wander up to the chimney, which released thick white smoke. It told him dinner was getting prepared already. .. One last heavy breath left his lungs as he rested his little hand on the wrought iron doorknob, finally able to put his weight upon something else than his exhausted legs. Water dropped from clothes, soaked hair stuck onto his forehead. Alastor just stood there a moment, resting and trying to calm his breath down. Damn, he was finally home, that awful day was finally over. It would be hard enough to find a good excuse for the ripped trousers that should have covered his knees, but for now, he at least would be safe.  
Alastor pushed the doorknob, with the inside of his home releasing a welcoming scent of a freshly cooked food that awaited him. For once his smile grew wide again as he thought of that. Even if the bullies, school and other circumstances made his life hard enough, the thought of his beloved home and the on person who was waiting inside of it for him, made this whole world don’t seem so cruel at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Again i apologize for spelling mistakes, I hope you like it anyway for now. <3


End file.
